


Trade Mistakes

by DoomNightAt12



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: AU, Death makes poor life choices, Gen, Kishin!Kid, Meister!Asura, Role Swap AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 01:52:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13225680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoomNightAt12/pseuds/DoomNightAt12
Summary: Death's first son was meant to be the pinnacle of Order, a Death God who would take on his work with passion, but the madness in that Order took him, and Death was forced to seal him away.His second son embodied the fear he had felt when faced with that madness, in hopes that he would grow to not take that power for granted.





	Trade Mistakes

The DWMA was on edge, to say the least. After the Kishin had escaped from its prison, a sense of unease was left lingering at the school. Maka herself could feel it well, the waving of souls. But for now she out her focus elsewhere, particularly on the reason Lord Death had summoned her alone. The God had tried to fight against the Kishin, but had let it escape. Surely, he was in the process of finding out how to track it down.

“Hey hi~ How’s it going~?”

Death waved from the short table he was seated at, tea freshly steaming.

“What did you want to see me for, Lord Death?”

He motioned for her to sit, to which she obliged.

“Well, you see the thing is, I have a son.”

Maka blinked. “A son?”

“Yes, but he’s so very shy I’m worried he’ll never make any friends. But after the way you managed to connect with someone like Crona, I was hopping you’d be able to help me out.”

Death sipped his tea. True, Maka had broken through to Crona, and after they were allowed to stay they were adjusting rather well to everyone. But it was a little strange to be asked to make friends with someone, especially the son of Death himself. Not to mention this had nothing to do with hunting the Kishin.

“Hm, I mean, I guess I can try.”

“Excellent! I’ve enrolled him to start classes tomorrow, so if you could stop by and show him around, that would be wonderful!”

“Sure, what’s his name?”

“Oh right, he’s called Asura.”

 

* * *

 

 

Maka honestly wasn’t sure what she expected Lord Death’s son to look like. Another black shape with a mask? A normal person? Asura appeared to be neither of those.

The boy was of the same height as Maka, as least from what she could see from his withdrawn posture, draped in oversized shirts and long pants. The lower part of his face was obscured by a scarf wrapped around his neck and trailing on the floor, while the top half was mostly hidden by black hair that had white markings on each strand. Beneath the hair she could just make out his eyes, narrow and dark, with red pupils that looked everywhere but at her own eyes.

“Maka, this is Asura. Asura, be nice and no running off!”

Asura seemed to mumble something, leaning away from the large hand trying to rough up his hair.

“Do your best today!”

The boy didn’t wait for his father to start waving, quickly shuffling his way out of the Death room, a bemused Maka following after.

…

“So Asura, is this your first time at the DWMA?” Maka could see the bob of his head, “Even though your Dad runs it?”

He adjusted the scarf to speak, “I prefer… less crowded places.”

“Hm, I understand, but I’m sure you’ll be fine. The only time you have to be with lots of people is in class, and hardly anyone wants to be there anyway.”

He looked at Maka, and kept his focus for a bit longer than expected. She tilted her head a little, but Asura shook his and looked back to the ground.

Everyone was already seated in class, meaning many eyes traveled to the door when the usual first seated made her way in, new student close on her heels. Asura seemed to sink further into his scarf, but Maka simply dragged him over to the stairs.

“Hey, thought you’d never make it.”

“We’re here before the bell, aren’t we?” She turned for introductions, “This here is my weapon partner Soul, you’ll be sitting next to him.”

Soul gave a lazy wave, and Asura simply bobbed in greeting.

“And I’ll be sitting just behind if there’s anything you need-”

“HEY NEW GUY.”

The three turned to the scream. Grand as always, BlackStar seemingly fell from above to land right next to Asura. The young god froze in place, letting only his eyes slide to meet the much to close face.

“What I heard, you’re Death’s son right? That means you’re pretty strong, _right?_ ”

The entire class could guess what Star was really asking, but Asura simply blinked.

“…I don’t know. I do not have a weapon partner, nor have I tried to fight anyone. I also only have a tiny fraction of my fathers power, so if you were expecting someone of his ability, I bear bad news.”

BlackStar open and closed his mouth a few times. “Uuuuh.”

The bell rung.

“Ignore him, class is starting.”

Maka and Asura took their seats, leaving BlackStar to be yelled at by Stein.

 

* * *

 

 

Arachne was even impressed at the rate at which she recovered, thanks to the flood of madness that had washed over the world. Sure her sister had set this in motion, but the Kishin was truly something, and she knew she would do everything to make him hers.

Her spiders hunted through every nook around the world. His soul was surprisingly well hidden thanks to how it radiated a stream of madness, meaning he could either be within the spread, or had been there recently. On possible sightings, arachnophobia recruits would got look themselves.

It was a single spider exploring a collection of abandoned houses that finally found a solid lead. A figure, lean and hunched, paced its way steadily around the buildings. Mutterings fell from its mouth, as fingers scrunched into its white streaked black hair. Its steps were even and timed, eight beats in its stride, until its path was disrupted. Gold eyes bored into the offender.

“Spider. Spiders have eight legs. Eight, good number.”

The spider let itself onto the offered hand, crawling over the bony digits.  It was raised to meet the pale face, it’s numerous eyes relaying the sight back to Arachne.

“But still not perfect.”

With a squelch the spider was flattened, sandwiched between hands. The creature, now identified as most likely the Kishin, was interrupted several hours later by the swarm of arachnophobia, including the rather excited Mosquito.

 

* * *

 

 

Of the students he was now acquainted with, Asura connected most with Crona. Sitting hunched outside during P.E., he understood the fear and nervousness they felt around others, having felt the exact same thing all his life.

BlackStar, he found, was like an annoying and very persistent bug. Despite his original words to the ninja, BlackStar was determined to have a fight.

Tsubaki was the appointed bug catcher, though he would always slip form her grasp. Or, more like she was forced to be in his grasp, loyally following her Meisters orders. _‘To be ordered and flung around like that, how awful’_

Maka was kind and positive, but scary in several ways. She was stubborn, competitive, and plain old aggressive whenever someone misspoke to her. Her weapon partner was often on the receiving end of that aggression, so much that Asura was surprised Soul didn’t have a permanent indent on his head. The scythe was lazy, but effective in battle, the pair making a team that Asura didn’t want to admit he was scared of.

The young god had lived alone in his mansion, fearing the outside world with its weapons and witches, and humans who seemed to be unstoppable. Now that he was partly out in the world, he was beginning to understand humans, but the fear never really left.

What kept them going? What drove them to fling themselves into battle, with creatures that wouldn’t think twice about slaughter? Outnumbered, out matched, it didn’t matter, humans were relentless.

“Hey, you okay?”

Asura looked up from his spot, squinting at Maka.

“…”

He didn’t know what to say. Was there anything to say? He was afraid. Of her, of other students, of the world, it all brought fear.

“A-asura?”

Crona was sitting to his left, curled with the same withdrawn posture. However, unlike the reaper, Crona had been watching everyone training with a smile. They watched with a light in their eyes that Asura had yet to find.

“…I’m alright.” A lie, but enough for his friends.

Maka smiled brightly, opening a hand out towards him.

“Good, it’s your turn.”

He was hoisted up, and the others all waved him over for his turn at training. He didn’t understand everything yet, but he was learning, and everyone was there to help. A small smile graced his lips, and he lined up ready for a fight.

 

* * *

 

 

“Lady Arachne, we have returned with the Kishin.”

The witch smiled from behind her fan, “Wonderful, bring him in. I hope you didn’t have to persuade him _too_ harshly.”

“Well…” Mosquito looked to the ground.

“What is it?” She narrowed her eyes.

“The Kishin came willingly, excitedly almost.”

Arachne arched a brow, but otherwise waited still. The Kishin arrived flanked by several recruits, all who leaned away when they could, while the Kishin himself walked tall and with purpose. Gold and violet eyes locked, and silence hung heavy, broken only by the wicked grin that appeared.

“Spider, you must be the designer of this beautiful place.” The elated face of the Kishin was met placidly, “The theming of eight, those symmetrical uniforms, gorgeous~”

Arachne looked dubious now, a beast of madness complementing the costume design of her foot soldiers? Studying the Kishin, its own form was less than what it praised. One white line in his hair wrapped its full way around his head, separating the two half lines above and below it, while five thin lines ran down across his mouth. His suit was pure black, with a white jabot around his neck and white horizontal lines down the center.

“Why… thank you. I am Arachne the Spider witch, and mother of demon weapons. I admire your own work too, your madness, your chaos. I was hoping that we could possibly come to a partnership-”

The Kishin’s expression turned dark in an instant.

“Chaos. Chaos?!”

The soldiers leaned further away at the new waves of madness. “Of course, such madness can bring forth destruction of people and places, can it not?” The witch reasoned.

“Destruction, yes. But chaos is ugly, unrefined, un _even._ I do not bring chaos,” only his smile returned, “I bring true order. I am Death the Kishin.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Where is he?”

“Reports say he was last spotted in sector 4.”

Giriko was going to kill the damn Kishin. He had not lived several hundred years to play babysitter to some neurotic freak who refused to stay put. There had already been ten other reports of him being in other areas, and at this rate Giriko believed it would be easier to cut down walls in the hope of taking the monsters head off.

The enchanter found the Kishin not in sector four, but sector eight, rearranging a worthless piece of décor.

_Fidget, pause, fidget, pause, fidget-_

“Fuck’n stop it man.”

The Kishin barely glanced at him.

“I’m a bit busy right now.” He went back to readjusting.

“Just fucking STOP.”

The object, along with a good portion of the wall, was now gone thanks to a swift saw kick. The Kishin was not injured, but now gave Giriko his full attention with a dark glare.

“…What? You gonna cry about it?”

He did. He absolutely began to bawl his eyes out, collapsing in a heap, pounding his fists into the rubble.

“Ahg, how worthless. Disgusting, awful, filthy, pathetic. I shouldn’t be alive, I can’t even make this castle symmetrical.”

“Um.” Giriko was taken aback.

“I’m a failure in my existence. To any name I hold. I want to die.”

Hysteria was causing his madness to rapidly grow, tendrils of dark energy leaking from his body and clawing into the ground. It was starting to look like he was melting. 

Giriko didn’t feel like killing him anymore. He just wanted to be away from the annoyance. Far, far away.  

So he left. And everyone stayed away from the eighth sector for the time being.

 

* * *

 

 

Asura was more than just nervous when it came to group resonance training. His fear and anxiety were through the roof at the thought of connecting souls with five other people. He had struggled through anything practical in relation to soul studies, and while he had a level of soul perception, he hated using it as much as he hated people using it on him. Seeing Maka use it made his skin crawl.

However, he supposed he wasn’t totally useless, seeing as he’d managed to gain himself a weapon partner. Vajra had been a unique case, where their calm demeanour and positive soul had let Asura resonate without feeling like someone was rubbing their hands on his soul. The weapon knew to keep to himself. The two were fast partners, but their combat prowess still lacked.

“Chain resonance not only increases a team’s power, but helps them strategize and communicate in battle without spoken word.”

Maka at least was on his team, but even she seemed dubious at resonating with BlackStar, particularly after the debacle of the classroom exercise. The three of them stood facing each other none the less, weapons in hand. Eyes closed with concentration, they began to link.

Maka and Asura were first, and the reaper was thankful when she seemingly understood not to push too deep. Next came BlackStar, but the connection was broken quickly, rebuffing the energy. His soul was forceful, pushing for control the moment they touched. Asura shivered, shaking his head to clear it as Stein called out.

“Again.”

Another failure, and Maka lost it. An argument and the scythe meister running off, Asura guessed it was break time. He sighed.

“Want do some other training while we wait?”

He nodded at Vajra’s suggestion. The two had been trying to do some self-improvement, specifically with some of Asura’s unique reaper abilities. A few rune shields he could summon were found to be able to reflect and amplify Vajra’s abilities, and he hopped it could become his own special technique.

The two made their way to their own spot in the woods, however as they travelled Asura’s soul sense picked up something.

Madness.

Something in the wood was overflowing with madness, and it made him freeze. It upset his own wavelength, Vajra’s confused calls falling on deaf ears. It was suddenly like his eyes were no longer his own, seeing a creeping darkness that began to seep from the trees. There was one direction where blackness seemed to be a void, swallowing everything whole and replacing it with madness. It spread, faster and faster, reaching like arms and slithering like snakes faster and _faster_ , out pst branches, reaching for him _faster and FASTER-_

It was gone. Asura let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, before looking to his partners now human form, who shook at his arm with confusion.

“M-…maybe we should go back.”

“Sure, let’s do that.”

Vajra led him back by the hand, casting worried glances every few steps. Asura kept his focus on the ground, stealing glimpses of shadows at the edges of his vision.

 

* * *

 

It’s pouring when Maka and her friends finally come into range of the Kishin. The six of them approach with caution, and a level of fear warranted by a madness emitting beast. The monster in question is kneeling on the ground, sobbing in anguish about something along the lines of ‘dirty, filthy, disorderly garbage’.

“Times up freak! The great BlackStar is here to kill ya!”

“We won’t let you destroy our world with your madness!”

Asura gripped Vajra a little tighter. “We’ll stop you, here and now.”

The sobs quieten, and his head turned agonizingly slow towards those who dared to interrupt. Three eyes bored into their souls, causing them all to shiver.

“You dare interrupt?”

BlackStar didn’t waver in his reply, “Of course! Didn’t you hear what we just said?!”

The Kishin stood to his full height, crocodile tears gone, carefully studying the children in front of him. When his gaze held longer on Asura, the boy didn’t back down, staring equally back.

“You think you can achieve something here?” It was a question asked in total honesty.

“We’ll never know if we don’t try.” Tightening her grip, Maka dashed forward, swinging Soul in a wide arc at the Kishin, to which it barely leaned to dodge.

BlackStar and Asura joined the fight behind her, forcing the Kishin to actually move from his spot. Meisters and Weapons dance about, looking for openings to land blows. The Kishin was unfazed, making small and precise movements to side step each move. The only attacks that began to come close were from Vajra, his energy shots aiming for where the Kishin would have to move to. He caught on however, creating small shields shaped like distorted skulls with 3 eye sockets, to block what he could move from.

“Ahg, how annoying!”

“Stand still!”

Enchanted sword mode reached him among the distractions, coiling and lashing at his legs. He jumped to avoid, but not before a large slash appeared in his pant leg. All eyes followed as he rose, and widened when he stopped mid-air.

“You…made me…unsymmetrical.”

“You looked in a mirror lately? Didn’t need our help for that, your heads already messed up.”

Maka was beginning to think that provoking him wasn’t the best idea, watching as the one full ring of white pulled away from his head, growing and shimmering. Rage was obvious on his face, twisted with a manic grin, but he was doing his best to hold it in.

“Alright you dumb kids, I’ll tell you a story; Once upon a time, a long time ago, Death decided he wanted an apprentice, someone to take his role of keeping order when he was gone. So he looked to his soul, and took a piece of his order, and gave it life. His new ‘son’ would remain faithfully by his side, never questioning until one of the Old Ones whispered in his ear.   
‘What exists now isn’t order’ it said ‘You know what true order is’, and the son agreed. His father was failing at his work, and realising true order was his purpose, he knew he had to step up. Bring true, un-wavering, _perfectly symmetrical_ Order.”

The grin fell from his face, twisting to a genuine sadness.

“But Death was less than pleased when he found an entire town reaped and erased. He didn’t seem to understand that the world was too far gone to bring Order, unless it was cleansed and started again. Even with the promise to bring back those reaped into the new world, Death labelled his son a Kishin, a creature of madness, and a _threat._ He sealed him away in a bag of his own skin, hoping he would never re-emerge. Do you _know_ what it’s _like_ to be locked away for 800 YEARS?!”

Madness was spilling out of him.

“I am the _ONLY_ Death this world needs!”

Darkness oozed off him, pooling out and down at a rapid rate.

“AND THE WORLD DOESN’T NEED _YOU._ ”

A single skull shaped tendril lashed out, pinning Asura by the neck. No one could react in time as he was sent sailing back into the dirt, Vajra falling from his grasp.

“NONE OF YOUR ARE WELCOME IN MY ORDER.”

Countless tendrils peeled away from his form, aiming for each of the children. Maka and BlackStar could barely dodge the onslaught, pushed further away from Asura. A quick decent placed the Kishin above the younger god, the boy squirming in an attempt to free himself. The three eyes got closer and closer, until the two gods pressed foreheads.

“…I’ve never reaped another god before.”

Asura was afraid.

**Author's Note:**

> Self indulgent snippets, thinking how they'd be if the swapped roles but kept their own styles of personality.


End file.
